


sua sponte

by brocanteur



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brocanteur/pseuds/brocanteur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night, drinking, and a point to be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sua sponte

It's late.   
  
Too late to be working; too late to be staring at depositions. Peter called two hours earlier and said he was worried; dinner had grown cold. She told him she was fine, that she was working on a brief, when really she'd wanted to say was, "Stop acting like my husband, Peter." The campaign had imploded, and their attempts to put back together the pieces of their marriage had gone with it.   
  
She puts aside the sheaf of papers she's too tired to process, sits back in her chair, and presses her palms to her eyes, trying to ward off the beginnings of a headache.  
  
"You're still here." Kalinda. Sharp-eyed, smiling.   
  
"Yeah. I'm just...trying to catch up on some work."  
  
Kalinda nods, an eyebrow raised. "That's what it looks like." She walks inside, and half-sits on the edge of Alicia's desk. "Sure you're not just avoiding home?"  
  
"You're not as smart as you think you are," Alicia responds wryly.   
  
"Let's go for a drink."  
  
"I told you, I'm busy."  
  
"Are you really?"  
  
  
  
Drinking with Kalinda is like an Iron Man competition; it takes a special kind of constitution, the right fortitude. Kalinda spies Alicia's reticence and says, "Come on. Fuck it. You're a grown, _free_ woman, Alicia. Stumble in drunk at 2 AM and make a point."  
  
"I have court in the morning," Alicia responds, tipping back another shot of tequila. It feels like they ordered their appetizers a million years ago. When they finally arrive, she's so hungry she doesn't care that they're too greasy, and a bit cold. She stuffs a buffalo wing in her mouth and catches Kalinda watching her with a sly smile. "What?" she asks, when she's done chewing.  
  
Kalinda lines up two more shots and reaches across the table. With her thumb, she brushes away a glob of sauce from the corner of Alicia's mouth. Alicia rolls her eyes, mostly at herself.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She looks down at the shot glasses, then up at Kalinda.  
  
"Don't think about it," Kalinda says. "It goes down real easy if you don't think about it."  
  
  
  
The trouble is, Kalinda wants to _know_ without _revealing_. She's a watcher, a voyeur. A peeping Tom. She runs hot and cold and scalding, all within a few moments. She's also insanely good with her fingers.  
  
Alicia hasn't been with a woman since her freshman year of college, and this is unprofessional. Kalinda's a colleague. More to the point, a _friend_.  
  
And she has a mouth like quicksilver; it's everywhere, and right where it needs to be.   
  
"I've never—" _Done it in a bathroom stall_ , Alicia wants to say, but she's slow with drink, and Kalinda's already shaking her head, silencing her by bringing a hand to rest across her mouth.  
  
Alicia bites it when she comes.  
  
  
  
They take separate taxis. Kalinda looks less smug than Alicia would've imagined. Instead, she seems a little off-kilter, which makes Alicia feel better about the whole thing.  
  
When they part, Kalinda opens the cab door and kisses Alicia on the cheek. "I'm very discreet," she whispers. "My secrets are my own."  
  
Alicia tilts her head, pressing her lips to Kalinda's, which are soft and cool.  
  
It's two in the morning when she gets home. Peter's waiting, half-asleep on the couch. He gives her a long, questioning look, but she ignores it.  
  
A point has been made.


End file.
